


Raven's Cry

by dummiE3M



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Family Loss, Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 07:03:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dummiE3M/pseuds/dummiE3M
Summary: My take on how Yennefer would be if she's with Geralt at the Isle of Mist.





	Raven's Cry

**_Yennefer decided to put a tracking spell on Geralt and immediately teleported to him when he reached the shore of the Isle of Mist._ **

* * *

** The Witcher: Raven’s Cry **

* * *

**_Unknown realm, 1273_ **

  
Geralt rows the boat until his biceps starts to feel numb, that’s when he sees the shoreline of the mythical island and the wisp that led him pass the wrecks and a lot of Sirens (intentionally it seems).  
As soon as the helm touch the pier Geralt jumped off pass over the wooden platform onto the soft, blacken sands. He begins his search by sniffing for a trace of Ciri’s scent despite it’s been five-fucking years since the last time he’d smell them.  
But instead of only Ciri’s scent and mixed of monsters’ odors (their tracks sprawl all over the place as far as he can see) he picking up scents of dwarves too, about seven individuals at the least. Then he heard a howl from the southern part of the isle, after a couple of times of listening he concluded that the howls came from an adult Fiend and according to the faint wet sound it could eating its meal which is a perfect time to pick a fight with them.  
Geralt treks the path to the beast as silently as he could, some foglets has been beheaded before they even know he’s there. The Witcher stationed himself on top of the mound and he sees the Fiend, stood proud and taller than himself for a good 12 feet. Judging from the patch of furs he estimated that this Fiend should be at around 15 to 18 years old but the stripe pattern indicates it as an ancient sub-specie that went extinct about 100 years ago (according to Vesemir).  
The Witcher drawn his silver to open the scabbard a bit then he is pouring a Relic oil in, custom-made witcher’s scabbard was designed in a way that you don’t have to use cloth to greasing your blade. The Witcher prone down to scan the area, he sees a carcass with only a leg attached and no other parts. No signs of a fight which Ciri would surely putting up if that corpse was her. Glimpse of steel at the other end of the field appeared to be an axe, dwarf axe.  
Geralt take a Moon Dust bomb from his side, aiming at the Fiend and throw it with all of his strength. The bomb hit and exploded into a massive cloud of silver powder in case it try to open it’s third eye then the micro-silver will irritates and burns. Also when inhales would cause some burns in it’s lungs.  
Geralt took a breath and holds them in as he leapt off the mound with his silver in both hands, pointing down aiming at the beast’s heart.  
The silver sword sank deep into the thick hide straight through the Fiend’s heart, the beast howl painfully as Geralt use his momentum and super-human muscles to twist the blade causing severe internal-hemorrhage that greatly reduced the monster’s abilities and set it on death’s door.  
The Fiend thrashing heavily and Geralt twist again to unsheathing his silver then kicking himself off the beast’s back. As experiences taught him he rolls away from the proximity of the dying monster, bracing himself for a desperate charge before it would collapse on the dirt.  
Quick glance to inspect the condition of his blade and gesturing a shell over his skins by Quen Geralt dancing on footwork around the beast, he saw it took sets of heavy breathings and clearly his tactic works, some dusted silvers falls onto the wounds and sizzling all the time, the Fiend blinking rapidly and attempting to open it’s third eyes several times with futile result.  
And as the last moment came close it roars loudly, bloodily then charging at him with all the might it have left. Geralt anticipated that move and dodging out of the line at the last possible moment then positioned his silver edge so that the fiend’s momentum will collide into the blade and cut easily into it’s intestine.  
Geralt keep putting distance between them and wait for another charge, when the Fiend finally turned to him he nearly sheathed the sword from the signs on it alone, ragged and uneven breathings, sluggish movements and dangling mangled intestines should put any regular Fiend down by now. The Fiend charge him again but lack precision and speed Geralt can easily jumped out of the way onto the nearby boulder that he use to boost himself up over the height of the beast then deliver the final blow precisely at the joint of spinal cord and the skull, severed the nerves and disabled the Fiend instantly.  
After the gargantuan body lay still on the ground he approached while swings his silver back and forth adding more and more forces for the last cut that severed the head from it’s body.  
…  
After back-tracking the dwarf’s trails for several minutes he reached the cabin in the woods, witcher senses revealed a lot of footprints outside the door and Ciri’s scent seeping strongly from the inside.  
He knocked.  
…  
Yennefer concentrating the flows of the Power around herself, thankfully she drawn them at the shrine up the mountain. Vesemir stand guard behind her because Eskel and Lambert can’t tolerate her attitude for some reasons like most men that couldn’t care less to really understand her motivations behind her every actions like Geralt and Vaal does.  
If what Avallac’h told her was true then this would take a lot of navigation and great deal of powers that would rendered her weak for days but if she was to cut off her own arm in exchange for a chance to hold Ciri again she is willing to take the cleaver without batting an eye.  
“So, any luck?” Vesemir asks from his position.  
“I am close, I can feel him now but I need a little bit more time to lock-on my portal.” Yennefer replied to the old witcher in her usual tone, he is probably the only witcher who didn’t treat her as bad.  
“I have some potion that can amplifies conduit limit, would it help?” Vesemir questions sound genuine.  
Yennefer slightly shaking her head a bit and answered his question politely “I’m afraid not, with all due respect Vesemir but witchers’ limitation as a conduit was far lower than mages. Cranking them up will make no different.” She heard he sigh a heavy one.  
“Wish I know more about magic than swordsmanship…” Vesemir mumbles to himself.  
“But then Geralt and all your…’children’ won’t be as skilled as they are.” Yennefer offers her praise.  
She heard quiet chuckles from the old man.  
“Now if this won’t success, would you shares the Hunt details more so that we can properly prepared the fight for your ‘daughter’?” Vesemir said honestly and that is something Yennefer always respect.  
“Deal.”  
She can feel Geralt’s soul now and then the link has been established from hers to his, easily. The portal appears at her right and show his left to her, before she took a step into the whirling time and space Vesemir call out to her.  
“Give the she-devil a hug for me.” The old master said that and gave her a curd nod.  
Yennefer accepted his request by nodding her head then took a step.  
…  
After almost walked the entire island he nearly have the urge to just slam the fucking door down and kill those bastard dwarves inside whom denied his access if he did not help finding their lost friends, now with the two of them dead and the one falling asleep all the way from the watchtower the door is finally opened.  
Some he recognized their features from their relatives, Yarpen and Soltan mostly. And they telling him about how they find the girl lay still as a stump inside the cabin since they get here, which is a long time.  
“We sorry about ya girl, witcher. But she’s cold as ice for days.” One of them said while they gathered oppose the cabin, behind the silent witcher.  
Geralt nod his head a bit then said almost inaudible “There’s a boat on the beach, wait for us there.” And he heard the dwarves walked off toward the path he had took.  
After a while of steeling himself and when he is going in a portal manifested itself at his left side, then Yennefer shows. Crap…  
“Geralt!” She jumped to him as soon as she was out of the teleportation, frailing almost instantly and showed clear signs of over-exhausted.  
“Yen? What are you doing here?” Geralt asks quietly to her ears as he take in the haunting scents of Lilac and Gooseberries.  
“I want to see her. It’s been so long.” Yennefer whispered back to him, looking as if she will faint any seconds now.  
Geralt grab a small vial reserves for humans only and instruct her to drink a little, the alchemical mixtures works wonders immediately. It will refresh the consumer physical after exerted themselves too much but in mages’ case it will not help about conduit usage that they will have to slowly regain themselves.  
Yennefer sighs relief and looking at him, thick beard and lack of sleeps clear as crystal on him, concerns and tinge of sadness painted his feature and that makes her heart drops.  
“What is it, witcher?” Yennefer asks commandingly.  
“One way to find out…” he phrased that and signals her to walk inside the dim lit cabin.  
Yennefer is confused until she saw the sword, on the floor and further the bed that was occupied by one woman whose back turned toward the two of them. Lifeless, stilled as painting was hers and his Cirilla.  
She untwined her arms from Geralt and runs to her duckling, softly whispers the girl’s name in hope that her heart would beating again. She starts to touch Cirilla lightly on the shoulder and the cheek, tapping to waking her child up from deep slumber.  
Geralt slowly walks from his position and crouch down beside his lover, although his hearing alone can tell that the body in front of them shows no signs of a living person he still reach his bare fingers in false hope to feel the pulse on her neck, nothing pulsating under his sensitive nerves.  
His world crumbling down to million pieces at that moment when he quietly mumble her name “Ciri?” and then the thing he never felt for so long since he took the trials came back to him, tears rolling down his cheeks as he chanting his kid’s name over and over again.  
Yennefer still keep awoken her daughter even when her tears trails down her face, her voices breaks to the point of sobbing while beside her Geralt was crying and whispers Ciri’s name. Yennefer couldn’t believe after this whole time that she put all of her efforts to find the child again would ended up like this, typically for the damned creature like her to be devastated whenever she allows herself to hope again.  
Everything rain down on her, what it’s like when Ciri smile at her, how the word mother from this little girl filled her, how she have see the future where three of them could live far away from anything and have a small happiness in this cruel world, how this girl became the magical binding of her and Geralt’s love. There’s still many things she wanted to teach the young girl, so many stories that they have to tell one another after years of separation, smiles from both of them that seems to light her darkness depth.  
Geralt thoughts wandered back to when they first met, how this stubborn child ran wildly from a Giant Centipede, how he had taught her the swordplay, how she brings back a smile to his face after decades of hardship and grim, how he saw Yennefer as the most beautiful woman in the entire multiverse when the sorceress cuddling and stroking Ciri’s hair to lull the child to sleep.  
Five years that held so much stories she would love to hear from him around the fire and share ones of her own to him and her mother. He crept up behind Yennefer, heaving her boneless body onto the cot.  
The sorceress pull the girl who is now taller than her up and rocking her back and forth, humming the rhythm once she used in Ellander after Ciri got a nightmare, song her mother used to sing for her as a child before her deformities shows. Raven cry silently as it grief the loss of heart, as the world crumbles around itself and darkness slowly come.  
Geralt took both of them into his arms and rocking them synchronized with Yennefer’s humming and his own, as two parents would do to sent their kid into sleep at the middle of the night, only this will be the last.  
The two doesn’t aware of the Wisp that floating slowly from the door to them, the light dancing around the trio along with Yennefer’s grieving song. After it took flight around them for the third time it slowly descent onto Ciri’s crown, fading inside the girl’s head and then the Emerald orbs shining with life again.  
“Mother?” Cirilla croaks out with dry throat.  
Yennefer stops her rhythm instantly and get a good look at the girl in her arms. Bright light shines on creeping darkness then chased them away to the deepest abyss.  
Geralt also take in the miracle in front of him then a smile starts to came back to him again, the world picking up its own pieces and mending itself.  
“Geralt?” Ciri try another word but yield the same result, she cough a bit.  
“Ciri! Gods I thought we lost you!” Yennefer cries out with joyful tears and hugging the girl tightly, laughing as if she has gone insane but doesn’t really care.  
“Hey, kiddo.” Geralt’s husky voice sounds the same to her and that was all she wants all these years. The witcher tighten his embrace around her and her mother to the point she have to lightly slap his back to let him know.  
“How are you? Where have you been?” Yennefer can’t help but inspecting Ciri all over and patting the girl’s cheeks affectionately while rambling questions concerning Ciri’s wellbeing.  
“Calm down, Mother.” Ciri’s voice doing better after she get some saliva flowing again.  
“Do not tell me to calm while minutes ago you were dead!” Yennefer tries so hard to put on a stern face but failed spectacularly for her muscle don’t want to stop smiling.  
But before she can say anything Geralt shuts them both “Alright, let’s get some fire starts first. We have a lot to catch up, kid.” He gesturing her to do the fire, as usual.  
Yennefer was about to conjures a fireball inside the hearth but Ciri stopped her mother “It’s good to stretching up a bit after a long nap, mother. Come now.” Cirilla took Yennefer hand and drag her toward the hearth.  
“Don’t you dare do tha—” Ciri cut the sentence down with a swipe of her coal-coated fingers to her mother’s cheek.  
…  
Eredin was relaxing at the garden with couples of girls when his viceroy, Ge’els, marched up to him with Caranthir and Imlerith in full Red Riders armors.  
“Eredin, put on you armor.” Ge’els spoke short and commanding, and his icy gaze tells him he’s not accepting any excuse.  
The King of The Wild Hunt and the Alders push himself up from pile of women and stood a foot taller than his viceroy, looking without utter a word as a form of asking.  
“We will go to The Aen Seidhe.” Ge’els informed his King.  
“The next hunt was due another day, Ge’els. So if this is no war and just a personal gain do not bothering me again or I shall have your head as the new decoration for the Naglfar.” Eredin said with such malice the soldiers that accompanied the three starts to shake.  
“Caranthir will clarify things to you, I must get back to Tir Ná Lia. Some paintings still needs attention.” Without even a slight bow Ge’els walks off toward the moon palace. Eredin is fuming and clenching his fists so hard it draws some blood.  
“My king,” Caranthir and Imlerith said in unison but only Caranthir continues the conversation “I have located Zireael and we prepared the ship awaiting your command.” Eredin nearly grin from the news but keep himself in check.  
“Then let’s the hunt begins.” Eredin said while signaled the escort soldiers to board the ship, he turns to Caranthir and as if mind reading was common among them the Navigator use his power to dress Eredin in his full armor by swapping them with the King’s outfit. Large blade holstered on his left hip and the Dread helmet in hand, he led the two generals toward the wharf.  
He will have her, and there is nothing that could stop his army, not even his former general. Gwynbleidd.

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**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
